Scene 6: One Year Later
ONE YEAR LATER
Ariana opened up her textbook, staring down at it and struggling to study as the students in the park laughed and made noise. She groaned, sitting back. Next to her, on the park bench, Grace checked underneath her fingernails.
Grace: I think I failed.
Ariana: Don’t say that.
Grace: It’s true. Professor Mathis couldn’t even look at me without chuckling. (groaning) My life is officially over.
Ariana: I don’t think that’s true.
Grace: Pi Eta Kappa girls are all stupid. Look at Kristen or Bree.
Ariana: (sighing) Those poor pledges. Kris and Bree are probably putting them through hell.
Grace: I’m guessing you and me are the only two who have a conscious about these sorts of things, huh?
Ariana: Whatever.
Ariana looked up and stared at a couple of Alpha Phi Beta fraternity brothers playing a game of football. Among them were Brian and Tim, two boys who frequently visited the sorority house, mainly because they were best friends and Tim was dating Kristen… still.
Ariana: Should I call to see where the hell the others are?
Grace: No. Let them f-ck with the pledges. We have to study.
Ariana: There’s Stella!
Grace looked up from her textbook and smirked as sorority sister Stella stumbled onto the green grass. Shaking her head and forcing herself to her feet, Stella walked forward muttering something underneath her breath.
Grace: Stella!
Stella looked up and found herself rolling her eyes. Grace and Ariana weren’t like her at all. In the sorority house, Stella had been known for being the party girl. She knew how to party harder than any other sister or student on campus.
That’s why when she hung out with people like Grace and Ariana, people who were serious and lived lives of no fun, she found herself grow sicker than a dog. Still, they were her sorority sisters. Stella couldn’t help but give a smile of false happiness and stagger away in another direction.
As soon as Stella’s back was turned, Grace and Ariana’s smiles faded.
Ariana: She needs to learn how to control her drinking.
Grace: I say let her drink. We only have a few more days before we’re out of this hell hole.
Ariana: Yup…
There was a silence. Grace shuddered, for what seemed like the millionth time that day. She couldn’t help but think about what life was going to be like outside of college. Now that they were graduating, life was going to be harder than ever. And the one thing that kept Grace sane, or what she felt kept her sane, was the fact that the other sisters were there to comfort her whenever she thought about… Abby.
And now that they were going to be graduating, Grace wasn’t so sure as to what was going to happen next. She wasn’t sure how they were going to help her out. Grace ran a hand through her hair, leaning forward.
Grace: Do you ever think that maybe… we dug ourselves too deep?
Ariana: What do you mean?
Grace: You know.
Ariana: Oh. (nods) I tried telling you guys it was a horrible idea. No one ever listens to me.
Grace: I’m sorry but we sort of panicked… you know?
Ariana: Yeah.
Grace: You ever going to talk to Kris again?
Ariana: I spent a whole year avoiding her. I don’t think that she honestly cares if I talk to her or not.
Grace: Kristen’s a nice person… she’s just… a…
Ariana: A bitch?
Grace: I was going to say “distant person”.
Ariana: I don’t think that’s the correct term for someone as horrible as Kristen Helms. (beat) I think that I’m going to go back up to the house.
Grace: Okay… I’ll meet you up there sometime soon, okay?
Ariana: Whatever.
Ariana pushed herself up from the bench, holding her textbook close to her chest and biting her bottom lip. Grace leaned back, looking back down to her textbook and her notebook. As her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, she ignored it and continued to study.
***
As Ariana walked up the stairs to the porch, she took in a deep breath and forced herself to hold in her tears. She rested a hand on the railing of the porch stairs, looking down to the floor of the porch. Chuckling, she knew that the girls in the sorority house had no idea as to how much Ariana cared for them.
Bitches, she thought coldly to herself. Shaking her head, she quickly jotted up the stairs, opening the front door of the sorority house.
One Year Ago: Two Weeks After Abby’s Death
Ariana swiftly walked out in the cold weather. It had been a strangely chilling day during the summer time. Ariana wasn’t sure as to how she was going to do this. She never even wanted to touch the body. But as the two weeks had gone by, there was a thick odor coming from the porch.
Daria Edison had noticed it and made a habit of saying that she was going to go to the animal control to see if they could remove the dead animal from underneath the porch. Ariana knew that she couldn’t have that. Her future and the future of the girls were much too important. Still, they had been bitches to her previously.
Ariana shivered, chilled by the strange things she was about to do. She gulped, looking around to see if anyone had noticed her. Kneeling in the dirt, Ariana looked into the whole at the side of the porch and gulped. The stench had grown, surprisingly strong. Covering her nose, Ariana reached underneath the porch.
It took her a few minutes to actually feel the body, but once she did, she felt the sudden urge to vomit.
Ariana quickly opened the door to the sorority house, taking in a deep breath and smelling the fresh air… the fresh scent of nature and the sorority house. Turning towards the door, Ariana quickly rushed inside.
***
Chelsea: Oh, sh-t… I forgot my condoms.
Daria: (raising an eyebrow) Chelsea…
Chelsea: Look, I’m sorry but I’m like… addicted, you know?
Daria: Are you sure you should be having sex while… pregnant?
Chelsea: First of all, I might not be… I have to see what the doctor says—
Kristen: You did, like, twenty home tests. Trust me… you’re pregnant.
Chelsea: (ignoring Kristen) And secondly, it won’t hurt the baby at all… at least until like three or four months I think.
Chelsea slouched in the couch, resting a hand on her stomach. Pregnancy wasn’t something she was found of and she didn’t really want to think about it but at every twist and turn, someone mentioned it to her. And the more they mentioned it, the more she felt sick about the situation.
Especially about the father, Ricky Jackson, the guy who called her a slut a year ago. Just recently, Chelsea found herself hooking up with him after a frat party. Soon, she began to experience morning sickness and hunger. And although Kristen was there every step of the way, Chelsea knew it was only for Kristen’s personal gain, so that Kristen could get all of the dirty details about the situation.
Chelsea: Has anyone seen Stella?
Kristen: She went out partying and didn’t come back last night… she’s a hot mess… I think we need an intervention for her.
Chelsea: Don’t be such a bitch.
Kristen: Don’t be such a slut.
Daria: Okay, okay, ladies, calm down… you are both beautiful young women with unique personalities… (stares at a picture) I-I’ll be right back.
Daria pushed herself up from the couch, covering her mouth with the sudden urge to vomit all over the rug. Kristen and Chelsea both look over to the wall in which Daria had been staring at. On the wall had been Abby, smiling on her bed. Kristen rolled her eyes, slouching down in the chair.
Chelsea, however, felt the guilt soon overcome her.
Chelsea: We’re totally going to hell.
Kristen: Don’t start… you’ll sound like AJ or Grace.
Chelsea: It’s true! (beat) I think that Daria is going to be really heartbroken when she finds out that one of the girls died under her care.
Kristen: (eyeing Chelsea) What do you mean, when she finds out? Are you thinking about telling her, because if you are, you can just forget about it?
Chelsea: Of course not. But you know she’s going to find out sometime.
Kristen: (sitting back) Don’t start.
As Chelsea sat back, Bree walked into the living room, her eyes, as usual, glued to her cell phone as she continued to text other girls from other sororities. Bree looked up for a moment, staring at her sisters before looking at the empty spot in the couch.
Bree: Wasn’t Daria in here?
Kristen: Yeah… (chuckles) She got the chills.
Chelsea: It’s not funny.
Kristen: Says who? I think it’s hilly hi-larious that she is that worked up over stupid Abby going missing.
Bree: Oh… we’re talking about Abby.
Kristen: A-duh. (beat) I don’t think we should beat ourselves up over it. I mean, look at it this way… technically, she did it to herself. Technically, she killed herself and we had nothing to do with it.
Bree: We buried her.
Kristen: A secret we should keep to the grave… now shut the f-ck up.
***
Barb and Bridget both sat on Barb’s bed, staring at Bridget’s text messages. Barb relaxed, her short hair brushing against her bare shoulder.
Barb: When are we going to the mall? I promised Brian I would go with him and a couple of other people.
Bridget: Aw… I didn’t know you guys were dating.
Barb: (laughs) We’re not… I just think he’s, you know… kind of cute.
Bridget threw one of her throw pillows at Barb, causing Barb to giggle loudly as she pushed her friend. Barb then looked out of the window, her thoughts lingering into the events that happened.
Barb: One year ago exactly.
Bridget: So… you noticed it too?
Barb: Noticed what?
Bridget: The date.
Barb: Oh.
Barb looked down to her leg. She ran a hand down her hair, smoothing it out as she took in a deep breath. She turned and glanced at Bridget, who continued to text another boy on her cell phone.
Barb: Do you think Kristen has a soul?
Bridget: (laughs) Why do you ask?
Barb: I don’t know. (beat) She didn’t seem too nice when it came to the whole “Abby anniversary” sort of thing.
Bridget: It’s just Kristen being Kristen… lighten up.
Barb: Whatever.
Bridget laid on her back, looking up to the ceiling and resting her hands behind her head. She took in a deep breath, now thinking about Abby’s suicide and how much it affected her life and the people around her.
Bridget: I’d rather not talk about it?
Barb: Why? Because it’s not f-cking cool what we did to her body… stuffing her underneath the porch?
Bridget: No… because of why she became known as the body.
Barb: Oh.
Bridget: (eye raising) Hey… this isn’t cool.
Barb: What?
As Bridget turned the screen towards Barb’s face, Barb stared at it. Her eyes widened the moment she realized what it had been. Still remaining calm, she looked up at Bridget.
Barb: Who sent this?
***
Kristen: (calling out) AJ, you’re not f-cking funny!
Christine: What’s going on?
Christine Lewis, another sorority sister who lived in the house, bit into an apple, entering the living room. Chelsea was hovered over Bree, who had broken into a sob, still staring at her cell phone. Christine’s eye raised, looking at her sisters.
Kristen: Go for a jog or something. You’re looking fat.
Christine: I love you too, Kris.
Christine stuck up her middle finger before rolling her eyes and, surprisingly, leaving the house to go for a jog. Kristen looked back down to the screen of the cell phone before smacking Bree in the back of the head.
Kristen: Stop getting so emotional. Its obvious Ariana wants us to feel bad for… like, forgetting her best friend’s death date.
Chelsea: Ariana and Abby weren’t best friends.
Kristen: (rolling her eyes) Whatever, Chels. It’s still really retarded that she would send this to our phones.
Chelsea: (pulling out her phone) How did you know it was on my phone?
Kristen: I got one earlier… I just didn’t mention it.
Bree: (shrilly) Can you guys just shut up?! (groans) Good God, this is f-cking bullsh-t! (calling out) What the f-ck, AJ?!
Kristen: (muttering) She should come downstairs so that I can kick her f-cking ass—
Kristen was cut off by the sound of Ariana rushing downstairs. Ariana and Grace walked in. Bree and Chelsea glared at Ariana, who chuckled softly, shaking her head.
Ariana: What’s going on?
Kristen: I think you know what’s f-cking going on. I bet you didn’t get one of those messages, did you?
Ariana: What are you talking about?
Kristen: You know damn well what I’m talking about.
Ariana: If I knew, I wouldn’t have to ask, now would I?
Bree: Don’t play dumb, bitch.
Bree found herself continuing the cry. Although she knew that it had to be the prank of Ariana, Bree wasn’t sure that it could have been another person who sent the pic. And if it had been, then she knew her future was ruined.
Bree: Why did you send them?
Ariana: Send what?
Ariana grabbed onto Bree’s phone, snatching it from her hands. Looking down at it, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She stuttered for a second, looking up and dropping the phone to the ground. Grace, who was the only one in the room who hadn’t seen it, knelt down and picked up the phone.
Grace: (disbelief) What?
In the picture was a pickaxe, lying on the kitchen table of the sorority house. The small message attached to the picture was enough to give Grace chills, as well as the other girls.
You will pay.
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 7: Someone Knows
Barb: It makes no sense… if Ariana didn’t send it, then who did?
Kristen: Ariana did send it.
Ariana: Say that one more time and I swear I’m going to bash your head in myself—
Kristen: With the same pickaxe, you freak.
Bridget: Ugh, just both of you shut up!
Stella put the cigarette to her mouth and then blew the smoke into the air. She sighed, resting a hand on the counter of the kitchen. She turned toward Kristen once again, with a look of being lost and confused about the situation.
Kristen: We can’t have this stress now… we have a graduation party to prepare for.
Barb: Someone knows.
Kristen: The only ones who could know about this are the eight who are in this room right now… and Abby too, even though she’s buried underneath the porch.
Stella: Maybe she’s not dead.
Kristen: Says the drunk. (sarcastically) Sure, anyone can survive a pickaxe to the head.
Stella: Where is the weapon? Who has the f-cking weapon? Any takers to show me where it is?
Bridget: (touching the kitchen table) It was right here… in the picture… (looks to the others) We never brought it upstairs. We never brought the pickaxe to the kitchen… it’s crap.
Kristen: You guys are all f-cking lame. Seriously, no one knows our secret. If they did, they wouldn’t be sending pictures to us, they would be calling the police. (to Ariana) You’re a bitch. (looks at the others) I’m gone.
Kristen glanced at her sisters before shaking her head and chuckling to herself. Bridget shivered, staring at the table which the pickaxe had been laid on. Bridget chuckled, shaking her own head in her disbelief and looking at her sisters.
Bridget: Kris is right.
Barb: Kristen is just scared… she has a different way of showing it then us.
Bree: (staring at her cell phone) Kristen doesn’t know sh-t about how to handle the truth. Look how she handled the entire Abby situation… she manipulated all of us… we should have gone to the police. (looks up) Ariana was right.
Ariana: (crossing her arms) Told you.
Grace: Well, we can’t do that now. The body is still buried underneath the porch, so there’s nothing to really worry about. No one was snooping underneath the porch… not that I know of.
Ariana: Actually… I kind of moved Abby.
Barb: What?
There was silence. Bridget’s mouth dropped open and Chelsea sneered at Ariana, who looked up to the ceiling and took a breather. Barb shook her head, chuckling and wiping her tear filled eyes.
Barb: Well, it’s official… someone saw you pull the body out from the porch and now they’re blackmailing us.
Grace: There was no ransom.
Barb: Well, I’m just waiting for it.
Barb groaned, pushing past an embarrassed Ariana and exiting in the same direction Kristen had earlier. Ariana ran a hand through her dark hair, shaking her head, knowing that what she did was wrong.
Ariana: I only did it because the body was smelling.
Bridget: You didn’t tell any of us.
Stella: I gotta get some beer or something.
Chelsea: I’ll go with you.
Stella hopped from off of the counter and towards Chelsea, who took Stella’s hand. Chelsea looked up at Ariana, who tried to avoid the fuming gaze from her sorority sister.
Ariana: So, what do we do?
***
Kristen: F-ck… her…
Chelsea: Come on, you guys… I mean, Ariana was pissed. We did f-ck her over, didn’t we?
Stella: She shouldn’t have done that.
Bree: Stupid Bridge and Barb think that it’s really the ghost of Abby, coming back to get back at us for what we did. They’re such f-cking lames.
Kristen: Tell me about it.
Bree nodded, looking back down to her phone. Kristen, who was driving, stared at the open road and took in a deep breath. She didn’t believe in ghosts and she didn’t believe that Ariana was genuinely innocent. Ariana had to have been the one who posted up the picture on their phones.
There was no other person.
Kristen: So… how many people are going to be there?
Bree: Over one hundred.
Stella: (excited) Tequila city!
Bree: (rolls eyes) You party way too hard, Stella.
Stella: The harder you party, the better you feel in the end, you know?
Chelsea: No we don’t. Usually, I have that same rule for penises.
Kristen chuckled, shaking her head and pushing a strand of her loose hair behind her ear. She began to think about her wallet and groaned, stopping at a red light and leaning back in the chair.
Chelsea: What’s the problem?
Kristen: I don’t have my money.
Stella: Oh well.
Stella, who was used to partying, stared out of the car window, her expression as blank as ever. Still, Stella forced herself to keep a smile on her face, despite her feelings of her friends and what they did. How it affected all of them.
Stella, too, had been drunk the night of Abby’s suicide. Hell, that was the one thing that made her hate Abby more. Stella had been drunk and yet, she didn’t go and put a pickaxe to her head. Abby was crazy.
Stella: F-cking crazy.
Kristen: Shut up about it… please.
Stella: Whatever.
Kristen: Chelsea… is Ricky going to be there?
Chelsea: No. I don’t want him there. (beat) He screwed my life up… I barely have enough to make it out on my own, let alone another two people. He doesn’t even have a future. (beat) He wants to drop out.
Bree: (grinning) That’s what you get for messing with cashiers.
Chelsea: (sticks up her middle finger) F-ck you.
Chelsea checked underneath her fingernails, coughing as she slouched in her seat. She looked out of the window and smirked, seeing a few teenagers driving by in a car with no hood. Everyone was celebrating graduation, high school students and college students. Chelsea wanted to smile but she felt a resistance to the emotion.
Chelsea: Who’s bringing the weed?
Kristen: Ugh, I don’t know.
Chelsea: (groans) Do we have to go through this again? God, same problem as last year.
Stella: (leans against window) I’ll grab it. It’s no trouble at all.
Kristen: Aw, aren’t you the cutest sorority dog?
Stella: Kris, I thought it was you who claimed the title of the sorority bitch.
There was a silence. Bree forced herself not to laugh or giggle. Kristen sneered, still staring out at the open road.
***
Ariana: I think that she has no emotion to what happened.
Grace: It’s Kristen, Ariana. Jesus, what do you expect from her? A memorial?
Ariana: Today? Did she have to keep the party today? Graduation isn’t until two days from now!
Grace: It’s Kristen being Kristen.
Ariana shrugged, checking underneath her fingernails and then pouting. How could Kristen blame the picture on her? Ariana peered out of her window and stared at the other sorority houses and the fraternities.
Ariana: I’m pissed.
Grace: Be pissed. I’m going into the shower.
Ariana: Okay.
As Grace gave Ariana’s arm a tight squeeze, Ariana slowly walked towards the window and stared out of it, her heart beginning to pound and her eyes beginning to water. She hid the body and didn’t think she had to tell anyone. It was an act of kindness that her sorority sisters still over passed as a stupid prank.
Weren’t pranks what got them into this mess in the first place?
Ariana: Stupid bitches.
Grace: I’m totally not a stupid bitch! (gasps) Oh sh-t, I forgot about my mom… she’s going to be pissed…
Ariana: Okay. (beat) After your shower, I want to go for a walk.
Grace: No problem.
As Grace left the room, Ariana continued to peer out of the open window. She stared at the car Kristen and the other girls were in coming back into the driveway. The sunlight caused her to squint.
It was then that she heard the noise first, causing her to spin around in surprise. At first, she thought it was Grace. After all, this was Grace’s room as well as Kristen’s. But as she stepped forward, she realized no one was there… or was someone there?
Ariana’s eye rose as she took another step forward.
Ariana: Hello?
There was a crashing sound coming from her closet. Staring at the door, Ariana spun around, her hands to her side. As she grew pale, Ariana took another step forward.
Ariana: W-who’s there?
Ariana Jenkins – LoD
1) Call out the window for help
2) Crawl out the window to escape. After all, you’re only on the second floor.
3) Quickly hide underneath your bed
4) Run out of the room and get help
5) Open up the closet door and see who’s there
6) Call for help on your cell phone
3 Deaths, 3 Lives
Ariana stood there, frozen in fear, wondering what to do.
***
Kristen: We’re back.
Bridget: Finally.
Barb: (hanging up decorations) Where’s Jamie and Kimmie?
Bree: (staring at her cell phone) Probably out searching for boys to join the party… (beat) I hate it that we have to do everything.
Barb: We don’t have to. We just are better at it… so they put all of the weight down on us.
Bree: (sarcastically) Fun, huh?
Grace: (rushing downstairs) She’s at it again.
Bridget: Who?
Grace: My mom.
Kristen: Good God, that’s the fourth time this week.
Rushing upstairs, alone, Kristen passed a few bedrooms before reaching Daria’s room. Knocking hard on Daria’s door, Kristen groaned, rolling her eyes and pushing it open. She let out a small gasp, seeing Daria sprawled out on the ground. Next to her were a few empty alcohol bottles.
Kristen: F-cking drunk.
Daria: (face down) I can hear you.
Kristen jumped in surprise, rolling her eyes after she realized that Daria wasn’t moving. Kristen knelt down, resting a hand on Daria’s shoulder. In the pit of her stomach, a sickening feeling arose from her “nice” gesture.
Kristen: Are you okay?
Daria: I-I’m fine.
Pushing herself up from the ground, Daria staggered to her feet. Kristen knew why Daria was doing this… drinking. It sickened her even more, not because she felt bad, but because her house mother was very unstable.
Daria: Do you know what today is?
Kristen: (sarcastically) Three guesses, huh?
Daria: Kristen—
Kristen: Yes, mother, I know what today is. It doesn’t mean get sh-tfaced. We have to do enough of that at the party.
Daria: Oh, I decided no party tonight.
Kristen: Bullsh-t, Daria. We’ve been planning this for months. We always have the party here.
Daria: Not this time.
Kristen: Fine. I guess I’ll have to tell the board that you’re here getting drunk off your ass.
Daria: Kristen—
Kristen: Come on, Daria. How much do we honestly mean to you?
Daria: Can you show some compassion?
Kristen: (sneering) The party is going to be tonight… and you can’t stop us.
Kristen shook her head, turning and walking out of the door of the sorority mother’s room. Stressed again, Daria reached for her pillow, only to grab the bottle that was underneath her pillow and tilting her head backwards, drinking hard.
***
Kristen: She’s fine. (beat) I talked to her.
Grace: Okay… so, is everyone ready for the party?
Kristen: Yeah, most definitely.
Grace: Okay, who has the snacks and the music?
Kristen: Ugh.
Stella: (to Kristen) I thought you said everything was picture perfect!
Kristen: Well… whatever. Let’s just split up and get this done.
To all the sisters, except for Ariana:
Sign up for where you want to go. One of these numbers will lead to a LoD that will happen the scene after next. It will be your job to avoid that number.
Go to the store to get snacks:
1.
2.
3.
Go set up the music:
4.
5.
Go get ready for the party:
6.
Go check on Daria:
7.
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 8: Preparation
Grace: Mom?
Daria: (weakly) I’m in here.
Peeking around the corner, Grace entered her mother’s bedroom. She took in a deep breath, staring at her daughter. Daria raised a hand and wiped her tears.
Grace: What did Kristen say?
Daria: I would get rid of her if I could… (grits teeth) I swear I would.
Grace: Mom—
Daria: I’ve done everything to protect you girls! Everything! And this is the thanks I get? A big blackmail?
Grace: Mom, it wasn’t your fault—
Daria: Well, I was the one who was sick that night… I wasn’t watching her when she… when she—
Grace: Took a pickaxe to the head?
Daria nodded, raising a hand and wiping her tears. She took in a deep breath, looking up at the door where she could hear the other sorority sisters talking downstairs. Daria looked up to her daughter.
Daria: Had Ariana not told me about what you girls did… would you have told me?
There was a silence. Grace rested a hand on her mother’s shoulder. She took in a deep breath.
Grace: Don’t say anything about what you know, mom. Kristen’s a bitch and I know and you know that she will do something horrible.
Daria: Yeah, I know.
Grace: I love you mom.
Daria: I love you too, Grace.
As Grace bent forward, she kissed her mother on the forehead. She avoided mentioning the strange pic message she had received earlier. Instead, she turned around, regretting not stopping her mother from taking another drink of alcohol.
Daria: Ariana… what are you doing?
Pulling the dead body from underneath the porch, Ariana looked up. A crackle of thunder made her gasp before she quickly stared at her housemother.
Ariana: I-I-I was just—
Daria: (pointing) What is that?
Ariana: I… uh—
Daria: (eyebrow raising) Wait. (taking a step forward) What is that?
Ariana stood silent. Wrapped in plastic bags, the strong odor fed the air from the corpse. Daria’s mouth dropped open as she realized who it was. She shook her head, raising her hands and quickly rushing forward.
Daria: W-who is that? Who is that?!
Ariana: Daria… keep your voice down…
Daria: Not until you tell me who the f-ck this is! (beat) Tell me or I’m calling the police!
Ariana: Its… it’s Abby.
Daria looked down to the corpse for a moment. It was vacation time at the college. Not many people stuck around on sorority row. Daria looked up at Abby before turning back to the corpse.
Daria: (disbelief) What?
Ariana: I-i-its Abby…
Daria: (weakly) A-Abby?
Almost fainting, Daria collapsed to her knees and tightly gripped onto the wooden banister. She turned and looked up to Ariana, who raised a hand and wiped her tears. She turned in another direction.
Ariana: It was an accident…
Daria: Abby’s dead?
Ariana: Mrs. Edison… listen to me!
Ariana rushed forward, grasping onto her house mothers shoulders. Daria continued to stare at the dead body with tears coming down her cheeks. A drop of rain splattered onto Ariana’s forehead.
Ariana: We could go to jail.
Daria: Who?
Ariana: Eight of us… me, Chelsea, Kristen… Bree and Bridget… Barb, Stella… Grace.
Daria turned and looked at Ariana when she said Grace’s name. Her mouth dropped open in panic and fear. What could these girls have done? Daria stared back at the dead body before looking up to Ariana.
Ariana: I have to get rid of this body.
Daria: Y-you girls could go to jail?
Ariana: (nodding) It was Kristen’s idea to get rid of the body. It was Grace’s idea to stuff it underneath the porch. (whimpering) It was an accident. We didn’t mean for her to die… she was drunk and the pickaxe… it was right there—
Daria: The lake… at the other side of town. (beat) I’m a local… I know my way around here.
Ariana: Thank you, Daria.
Daria didn’t respond. Instead, she reached and pulled Abby’s arms. She didn’t know what the girls did and what happened to Abby. But she knew that she wouldn’t let them suffer in jail… no matter what happened.
***
Ariana: Who’s out there?
There was a silence. Ariana dropped her purse. Shivering, she knelt down and picked it up. She could hear the other sorority sisters downstairs. Moving forward and locking her door, Ariana leaned back against her door and took in deep breaths. The picture of the pickaxe wasn’t something she could take lightly.
Someone knew.
Ariana took in another deep breath. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Pressing the numbers, she pushed her back against the wall and held in her breath. Her eyes began to water as a breathing sound soon came to her ears. Someone else was definitely in the room with her.
Ariana: (putting the phone to her ear) Hello?
Why wasn’t Bree answering?
Bree always answered her f-cking cell phone. Ariana ran a hand through her hair, looking up and staring at the window and then towards the bed. Where was this person? Reaching behind her, she grasped onto the doorknob with her hand, twisting it. It was then that there was a slamming sound.
Ariana jumped, letting go of the doorknob and turning towards the closet door, which was slammed open. She let out a scream, seeing a figure in a hooded graduation gown lunge forward with a pickaxe in their hand. Ariana fell backwards, her phone crashing and breaking on the ground just as Bree answered.
Ariana: (shrill) No!
***
Stella: Oh my God! Pump this up! This is my jam!
Chelsea: (rolls eyes) Ugh, you’re so stupid.
Stella: I like this song!
Stella reached forward, turning the knob and letting the music blast throughout the sorority house downstairs. Neither girl could hear Ariana’s cries and pleas for help as she struggled to get out of her room.
Ariana threw a book at the hooded figure, slamming into the wall. She stared at the rusted pickaxe. The one used to kill Abby. Ariana whimpered, looking up and staring at the hooded figure. Gulping, she pushed herself backwards.
Ariana: Please… don’t do this to me.
As the figure lifted up the pickaxe, Ariana closed her eyes, looking up to the ceiling and sobbing softly. The pickaxe was soon brought down, a sickening crushing sound was made as it smashed against her sound. Ariana’s body flung to the side, frail and light. Before she could make another sound, the pickaxe was brought down again, blood escaping from the cuts and cracks on her head.
For one last time, Ariana’s body jerked. One of her eyes rolled up as the other stared forward with regret, fear and horror all mixed into one. Blood seeped from her nostrils and the sides of her mouth. The killer reached down, grasping onto Ariana’s dark hair and pulling her towards the closet.
***
Kristen: Ariana?
Grace: (covering her nose) Ugh, it smells like f-cking bleach in here.
Kristen walked forward, lifting her head and smelling the air. It did smell like bleach, but there was something else… another odor used. Kristen ignored it, peeking around the corner and sighing.
Kristen: She’s so f-cking stupid.
Grace: (raising an eyebrow) You ready?
Kristen: Yeah.
Grace rushed towards her drawers, pulling out a red dress. As she showed it to Kristen, Kristen turned and stared at the mirror. Something was most definitely off, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it could be. Shrugging, she quickly rushed towards the dress and pressed it against her body.
Kristen: It makes me look fat.
Grace: Suck it in.
Kristen: Suck it.
Grace sneered, dropping the dress onto the bed and taking off her shirt.
Grace: Fine. I’ll wear it. Just borrow something from Chelsea if slut is the look you want.
Kristen: Stella has the cutest clothes though. (beat) Whatever… I’ll meet you downstairs.
Grace: Okay, bye.
As Kristen rushed towards the door, Grace looked up, sniffing the bleach once again. What did Ariana use bleach for? Grace pressed the dress against her body again, staring at it in the mirror on the door, not noticing the foul odor, still very faint, of Ariana’s body in the closet behind the jackets.
***
Barb: The three “B”s… going to the store together.
Bridget: (driving) Shut up.
Bree: How about you both shut up. (beat) I wish Kristen was here… she’s ten times more fun than you guys.
Bridget: Shut up…
Bree: (continuing) Plus, Kristen would have made fun of quite a few of you. (beat) That’s what she’s best at.
Bridget: You are really pissing me off.
Bree: Let’s hope I am. (groans) I’m extremely bored.
Bridget: We’re here.
As the car pulled up into the driveway, Bridget, Barb and Bree all opened their car doors. Bree rushed forward, grabbing the car keys from Bridget’s hand and stuffing them into her pocket. Smirking, she pulled out her cell phone and began to text sorority sisters from other sorority houses again.
Bree: I’m driving back.
Bridget: Not in my car.
Bree: Chill out. It’s not like I’m going to crash it… like Stella or someone. Hell, I take better care of this car than you.
Bridget: Why, look at you, miss Kristen junior.
Bree stuck out her tongue, looking back down to her cell phone and texting faster than she had before. Bridget looked down to a puppy on a leash that was wrapped around a tree so the puppy wouldn’t escape. She cooed, kneeling and petting the puppy on the ground. She looked up to Barb, who rolled her eyes.
Bridget: Wouldn’t it be nice to get a puppy for the sorority house?
Barb: No animals allowed. (beat) You know Daria’s rules.
Bridget: Daria’s a drunk. Screw her rules.
Barb: You’re such a bitch.
Bree turned around and stared at the two girls who continued to chat and laugh. She rolled her eyes. Barb and Bridget weren’t her two favorite sorority sisters. As a matter of fact, she disliked them more than most of the others.
Bridget, with her knack of loving animals and her bipolar, if she was bipolar, considering the fact that she changed emotions quickly and became angry during the littlest thing.
And then there was Barb, who was too talkative for Bree’s liking. Barb also liked to flirt and although she, in Bree’s opinion, wasn’t as cute as most of the girls in the sorority house, Barb still hit on a lot of the girls boyfriends.
Barb: What are you looking at?
Bree: Two lazy bitches. I’m not getting this sh-t alone. (beat) So can you guys, like, hurry up?
Barb: Whatever.
Barb stuffed her hands into her pockets. She gasped, looking up and staring at the cashier. Giggling loudly, Barb skipped towards him and resting her hands on the counter.
Barb: You knocked up my sorority sister.
Ricky: Huh?
Ricky Johnson, still working as a cashier in a corner store, stared at the girl from Phi Eta Kappa. A smile came onto his face as he realized who she was. Nodding, Ricky rung up the pack of bubble gum that Barb and put on the counter.
Ricky: Yeah… I did. So what?
Barb: And you’re a cashier?
Ricky: There’s nothing wrong with being a cashier. It’s good money and sometimes, I get free food.
Barb: So… are you coming to the graduation party tonight?
Ricky: I can’t. (beat) My girlfriend wants me to go with her to see a movie.
Barb: Oh yeah, I forgot you had a girlfriend… assh-le.
Ricky: Excuse me for not ruining Chelsea’s hopes. (beat) I think she likes me even more, now that she knows that she can’t have me.
Barb: No… she just wants you to be a part of her baby’s life. After all, it was your mistake.
Ricky raised an eyebrow. He shook his head, putting the gum in a bag and handing the bag to Barb. As Bridget and Bree rushed forward with potato chips, soda and other snacks piled in their hands.
Bree looked up and glanced at the cashier.
Bree: (shocked) Is this—
Barb: Yup. He’s not coming to the graduation party. (beat) I told him it’s going to be amazing.
Ricky: Yeah, I have other plans—
Bree: (whining) No, come to the party! Chelsea wants to see you… I think. Plus, don’t you want to see how she’s doing with your baby?
Ricky: I’ll consider it then.
Smiling, Bree turned and stared at Bridget, who could tell that it was a bad idea for that to happen. A frown came onto Bridget’s face as she handed Bree forty dollars before walking towards the car.
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 9: Graduation Time
Bree: Ugh, I think I broke a nail.
Bridget: How?
The guests to the party were just arriving. Bree set the punch bowl on one of the tables, bringing her hand up and examining the nail she felt a snapping sensation to. She turned to her sorority sister and brought her hand to her face.
Bree: This is f-cking beautiful.
Bridget: At least it’s not your texting finger.
Bree: (sarcastically) Ha-ha.
Bridget: It’s only a joke, Bree.
Bree: Don’t make me hurt you.
Bridget rolled her eyes, knowing that Bree was going to aggravated her anyway until she moved away from the area. It was only right for Bridget to be the bigger person and walk away first.
Bridget: Where is Kristen?
Bree: Still getting ready.
Bridget: Can I ask you a question?
Bree: Shoot.
Bridget: Why are you her lackey?
Bree: (disbelief) Excuse me?
Bridget: What provokes you every morning to wake up and go “Hm. I think I’ll follow Kristen around today”? I’d pull my f-cking hair out if I had to stick around her for hours and hours on end. And you do it just because?
Bree: Um, I’d rather not talk to you about it.
Bree sneered as Bridget walked away with a smirk on her face. Where did Bridget come off, asking a question such as that?
Bree continued to glance at her broken nail, sighing as she rested her hand on the table and looking forward to some of the party guests. She rolled her eyes, running towards a group of college students, mainly fraternity members, who were trying to take pictures off of the walls.
Bree: F-ck… stop it you guys!
Bree pouted, crossing her arms and glaring at the males, who were laughing. Bree rolled her eyes, turning away and stomping towards the kitchen.
***
Stella: Take a hit… come on!
Grace: Ugh, where is Ariana to enjoy this fine occasion?
Stella: More weed for us.
Grace: Amen to that.
Grace inhaled the marijuana smoke before letting it seep out of her nose. She giggled, tossing her head back and laughing. Where was Ariana? Grace hadn’t seen Ariana since earlier that day.
Grace: Where’s Bridge?
Stella: Bridget wouldn’t smoke.
Grace: Are you sure? I mean, it is Bridget we’re talking about. (giggles) I think she’s high any time she talks.
Stella: Ouch, that’s so mean.
Grace: It’s true. (beat) I really want Ariana here. I need Ariana here, to celebrate with us.
Stella: Screw Ariana. She played that joke on us… it wasn’t a funny joke, might I add.
Grace: I don’t think it was her.
Stella: What do you mean?
Grace: I mean, who is the sorority bitch? (beat) She might as well have a mascot of a female dog. She’s always setting people up and somehow, I think that this is a major set up coming from her… very immature if you ask me.
Stella: Nobody asked you.
Grace snickered, tossing back her head and taking another puff of the weed. Releasing it after letting it sit in her lungs, Grace forced herself to her feet, handing it back to Stella, who almost dropped it.
Stella: Where are you going?
Grace: To find Ariana.
Stella nodded, her smirk growing larger as she took another puff of the weed. Grace stumbled into the hallway, staggering off of the walls. Her shoulder slammed into one of the doors, causing it to push open. Chelsea turned around, topless and straddling yet another male from a fraternity.
Grace: Sorry… sorry…
Male: Can you shut the f-cking door?!
Chelsea: (groans) That’s it… I’m officially out of the mood.
As the door to her bedroom closed, Chelsea pushed herself off of the male and buttoned her shirt up. She sighed, tying her hair into a ponytail. The frat member stood up, still erect and seemingly angry.
Male: What the hell man?
Chelsea: I’m pregnant anyway. (beat) Now do you want to go away?
Male: Actually, that just makes me hornier.
Chelsea: (rolls eyes) Ugh, skeeze.
Chelsea walked toward the door, pulling it open. The male pulled up his pants, sticking her the middle finger and walking out of the door. She shrugged, uninterested in what he felt about her. As the boy left, Chelsea slammed the door behind him, shaking her head in disappointment of her pick in guys and walking to her bed.
As she sat down, the door swung open again. Chelsea looked up as it creaked.
Chelsea: Hello?
The loud party downstairs grew more and more faint and the sound of her heartbeat began to pound in her ears in a rhythmic beat. Chelsea took a few steps forward, reaching her hand out to touch the door.
Chelsea: Can you stop being f-cking idiots?
Shutting the door, Chelsea shook her head, unaware of the silent stalker that had been in the hallway, holding a pickaxe underneath the graduation gown.
***
Daria: Where is Ariana?
Kristen: (rolls eyes) I don’t know. Probably illegally smoking weed. (beat) You know, this sorority house has set a horrible example on her.
Daria: Hey, Kristen, guess what.
Kristen: What?
Daria: Cut the sh-t.
Kristen laughed dryly, rolling her eyes and taking another swig of beer from her beer bottle. The music continued to blast downstairs. Kristen moved towards the door, cracking it open and listening to the college students’ party.
Kristen: I need to be down there.
Daria: So, why aren’t you?
Kristen didn’t want to admit it. Hell, if it meant showing any signs of sympathy towards the dumb bitch that put a pickaxe through her skull, Kristen decided to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want Daria drinking some more because of what was going on.
***
Stella: (shouting) Grace… what the f-ck is taking you so long?!
Stella leaned forward in her chair, taking another drag of the brown blunt. She relaxed, taking in a deep breath. She liked being the party girl, someone who everyone knew could shake her ass and have fun.
It wasn’t the sort of title that Daria wanted for Stella, but Stella didn’t care what Daria thought about her. She was more interested in what her sorority sisters and hot frat guys thought when they saw her.
Stella: This is f-cking boring.
Running a hand through her hair, she took one last drag of the blunt before dropping it to the ground and standing up. Walking forward, she looked at herself in the mirror, smirking and admiring her beauties before moving towards the door. She reached forward, turning the doorknob and walking into the empty hallway.
Stella: (calling out) Ariana? Are you here?
An eerie feeling came over Stella but she ignored it, taking in a deep breath and approaching Ariana’s bedroom door. Stella turned to her left, staring at the darkness. At the end of the hallway, where the staircase began, bright lights from downstairs were flashing. Some were colorful.
Stella knew that her sorority sisters brought out the disco ball.
She snickered, shaking her head and stuffing her hands into her pockets. She, with her shoulder, pushed open Ariana’s bedroom door, silently walking into the dark room. There was a smell, very faint but very familiar. Still trying to figure out what the smell could be, Stella removed her hands from her pockets and turned on a light switch.
For a second, as the lights turned on, Stella stared forward. Then she backed her, her back accidentally closing the bedroom door. A scream escaped her lips but wasn’t heard because of the fact that the music was blazing downstairs.
Stella: Ariana?!
Stella stared in disbelief at the dead body, propped against the backboard of the bed. Stella reached up for the doorknob, turning it, although her back remained pressed against the shut door. Before she could realize her mistake in opening the door, the pickaxe swung, slashing through her sneaker, from underneath the bed, barely missing her foot.
Stella kicked her shoe off and ran towards the bed. Hoping on top of it, she looked down, screaming softly and standing on the headboard. Her socks began to grow soaked with Ariana’s blood. She looked up at the door, which was locked, and closed her eyes, raising a hand to wipe her tears.
Estella “Stella” Martinez – LOD
1. Stay on top of the bed
2. Run for the closet
3. Run for the window
4. Try to grab the pickaxe
5. Run for the door
6. Call for help on your cell phone
3 Deaths, 3 Lives
***
Barb: Give me some more beer!
Bridget: N-no! (snatches the beer away) This is mine. (in a raspy voice) Precious… you are mine, precious…
Grace: (rushing into the room) B-Bridget?!
No one noticed, except for Bridget, that Grace had even entered the room. The party continued to go. The college students danced and laughed. Bridget smiled, staring at the nervous wreck.
Bridget: Hey Grace.
Barb: (reaching forward) Grace, come get drunk with me—
Bridget: Grace… what’s wrong?
The frozen expression on Grace’s face remained there, filled with fear and horror. Grace moved closer in towards Bridget before raising her hand. Barb gasped loudly and Bridget looked up, to make sure that no one else was looking.
Bridget: How did this—
Grace: (whispers) It’s not my blood.
Bridget: (worried) Okay… where’s the others?
Barb: I’ll go get them. (beat) Who’s blood is it?
***
Grace: …and then I opened my car door and there it was.
Staring inside of Grace’s car, Bridget and Barb looked at the blood, soaked in all of the seats and on the steering wheel. There were a few drops of it on the dash board but they were hardly noticeable.
Barb: Who would do something like that?
Bridget: I don’t know… (beat) It’s f-cking creepy.
Grace: Creepy? That’s blood!
Barb and Bridget stood there, staring at the inside of the car. Chills ran through all three of the young women.
Grace: Should we get Kristen?
Barb: Are you kidding? It was probably her and Bree, playing some sort of bitchy practical joke.
Grace: It’s not very funny.
Barb: Is anything Kristen does or says funny? She was probably just trying to be a bitch to you… as usual.
The seats were now red instead of the usual cream collar that it had been before. Blood had been splashed onto them. Next to the car had been a bucket. Grace ran a hand through her hair. Her fear soon turned into frustration.
Grace: Kristen… she has to pay for my car.
Barb: Wait… what?
Grace: I’m going to have to get this sh-t cleaned. What the hell was she thinking? No one would do this to her. (beat) God, she pisses me off.
Bridget: She pisses us all off.
Grace: Come on… let’s get back to the party.
***
Chelsea: (looking out the window) What are you guys doing?
Chelsea gasped as a few of the fraternity members jumped into the pool, splashing water on a few topless girls who were lounging on lawn chairs almost as if the sun were out. Chelsea rolled her eyes, shaking her head and turning around. She walked toward her down, only to stop quickly, seeing Kristen and Bree standing there.
Bree: What are you doing?
Chelsea: Looking out for the police. (beat) We can’t have them snooping around here, can we?
Kristen: I think we should tell Daria what happened to Abby… on our last day here.
Chelsea: Are you f-cking kidding me?
Bree: (crossing her arms) My words exactly.
Kristen: Daria has a right to know. After all, she’s going on a f-cking drinking spree because of it.
Bree: Who cares? You never did before.
Kristen: It’s just… I guess I’m beginning to feel a little guilty at what’s going on. Do you blame me?
Bree: (shaking her head) Pathetic and weak.
Kristen: That doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass… just like I’m going to ruin that bitch’s life.
Chelsea: Who’s life?
Kristen: Ariana’s. She is a f-cking lunatic.
Chelsea: (checks watch) Oh f-ck, I gotta get downstairs. (beat) I was supposed to be doing body shots.
Kristen and Bree laughed as Chelsea rushed past the two girls. Neither of them could hear the terror over the music in the next room.
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 10: The Walk Of Shame
Chelsea: Oh my God… Kris did this?
Barb: We don’t know. Bridget and Grace think that Kristen is capable of doing something like this… but I don’t think so. (beat) I think it was Abby.
Chelsea: That’s going a little bit too far.
Barb: First the pickaxe on our phones and now, blood on the car seats? Someone wants us to remember what we did.
Chelsea: Well… as a said before, that’s a bit far-fetched.
Pushing herself back and crossing her arms, Chelsea shook her head, staring at the horrible prank. She couldn’t believe that one of her sorority sisters would do this to Grace’s car. They were Phi Eta Kappa sisters. They were supposed to be some of the nicest, smartest girls on campus.
Chelsea: I’m not going to worry over this. Worst case scenario, Kristen died.
Barb: But Kristen is our friend! S-she’s one of us—
Chelsea: Chill-ax, it was just a joke.
Barb: O-oh… a joke… I knew that.
Chelsea rolled her eyes, seeing the nervousness that Barb possessed. Chelsea, however, couldn’t blame her sorority sister that much. Still, it was enough to make Chelsea angry at Barb’s emotions.
Chelsea: (shutting Grace’s car door) I’m going back inside.
Barb: Don’t get knocked up or anything while you’re in there. (beat) What? Is it too soon for jokes?
Chelsea: (stiffly) There’s that strong girl I once knew.
Barb shrugged her shoulders, skipping back towards the house. Chelsea followed soon after.
***
Stella: Oh God… help me… please…
Stella looked down. The room was silent. She shut her eyes, the tears streaming down her tanned face. She gulped before hopping off of the bed and making an attempt for the door. She collapsed to the ground, feeling the pickaxe slice through her ankle, pulling her. It went in through one side and out the other. With each tug coming from the killer, Stella screamed.
She could feel her skin tearing as the killer continued to pull her underneath the bed. Stella raised her other leg, kicking the killer hard in the face, causing the killer to let out a grunting sound. Stella forced herself to her feet, rushing towards the door. She collapsed to her knees, her ankle suddenly twisted in an unexpected pain.
Blood continued to rush from her wound. She turned and stared at the killer, standing up in the graduation outfit.
Stella: Who the f-ck are you?!
Stella kicked her good leg forward, hitting the killer directly in their knee. The killer collapsed quickly, letting out a loud groan, the pickaxe falling inches away from the side of her chest. Stella shot up, pushing the killer back onto the bed and limping towards the closet door. She raised her hand to wipe her eyes, turning and seeing the killer pick up the pickaxe. She entered the closet, shutting the door behind her.
***
Kristen: Did you hear that?
Grace: (checking underneath her fingernails) You still have your hearing after all of this loud music?
Kristen: I just… never mind.
Grace: What did you talk to my mom about?
Kristen didn’t respond. Instead, she smiled, looking up and seeing Timothy “Tim” entering the sorority house with his hands in his pockets. Behind him, his best friend, Brian, walked in with a smirk on his face.
Kristen: Tim!
Tim: (dull) Kristen.
Kristen wrapped her arms around her boyfriend before kissing him softly on the lips and quickly pulling away. Tim smiled, reaching around and grabbing Kristen by the waist. He pulled her forward, only for her to pull back, rolling her eyes and brushing off the back of her clothes.
Kristen: I spent three hours preparing this outfit, Tim. (beat) Don’t be so self centered and maybe I’ll introduce you to my parents by summer time.
Kristen walked away, Grace laughing softly, raising the back of her hand to her mouth and looking at Tim.
Grace: God… she is so generous.
Tim: I… (sniffs) smell weed. (beat) Where’d you smoke at? I really want some really bad.
Grace: (giggles) You’re going to have to talk to Stella. (beat) I wonder where she is… probably getting baked in her room.
Brian: (approaching) You guys need to party hardcore, like Stella does.
Grace: Stella parties too hard for me. I’ve got to worry about school and my scholarship before I can party like a rock star.
Brian: Well, I’m going to go use the gentlemen’s room.
Tim: (chuckling) Gentlemen my ass. You’re a f-cking pig, boy.
Brian: (snorts) You know you love me.
Tim stuck up his middle finger at Brian, who let out a loud “whooping” sound before dancing his way into the crowd. Tim then turned to Grace and snickered.
Tim: He’s probably going to sleep soon.
Grace: (crossing her arms) Really?
Tim: So… how have you been?
Grace: (chuckles) I’m not Kristen and I’m not Chelsea. You’re not going to use me for another reason to get happy.
Tim: I’m not that much of a player, am I?
Grace: In all honesty, yes you are. (groans) Can you guys not touch that?
Grace walked forward, towards a few college students who were playing around, tossing a flower vase, feeling shivers going down her spine. All she could honestly think about was how someone splashed blood in the inside of her car. Still, she knew that she had to get past it and view it as nothing more than a prank.
***
Stella sighed heavily. She didn’t know if the killer was still in the room or not, but the killer didn’t make any attempt to break it, so Stella was relieved.
For a second anyway.
There was a knocking sound at the door. Stella quickly stood up from the closet floor. Someone wanted to come into Ariana’s room! Would they spot the dead body? Stella’s heart began to pound as she opened her mouth to scream but a weak moan came out.
Barb: (o.s) Stella? It’s me… Barb… are you there?
Stella: (screaming) Barb! Barb, open the door—
Her screams were cut off, however, as the killer pulled open the closet door, almost breaking it in half. Stella backed up, the clothes falling onto the ground. She could hear Barb trying to get into the room, jiggling the doorknob. Stella kicked her bad leg forward, missing completely.
The pickaxe raised above her and then fell onto the ground as Stella spun around, the carpet tearing.
Stella: Barb! Barb help me—
The pickaxe lifted once again. The killer looked down at Stella. It was then that Stella immediately recognized who the killer was. Stella’s mouth fell open in shock, unfortunately for her as the pickaxe slammed down, breaking one of her teeth off and causing it to go down her throat.
Bursting through the other side of her head, Stella looked up, unable to move with the pickaxe pinning her to the ground, inside of her mouth. She could taste the rust as she continued to stare up at the killer. Her eyes soon directed towards the ceiling in a glassy stare.
Barb: (o.s) Stella? Ariana? Are you guys in there? Hello?
As the killer walked forward, they unlocked the door, causing Barb to push open the door and collapse onto the ground. She glanced up for a second, staring at Stella’s still body with the end of the pickaxe in her mouth. Barb let out a scream as the door shut. Something then slammed into the back of her head, causing her to collapse onto the ground, unconscious.
***
Kristen: (whispers) What… the f-ck.
Grace: (shutting the kitchen door) Who would do something like that?
Bridget: (sobbing) I-I don’t know. That’s how I found it.
Bridget raised her hand and wiped her tears. The five remaining sorority sisters stared at the list of the girls on the wall, in a red substance, which was either blood or very similar to it. Bree took in a deep breath.
Bree: This is so not funny.
Bridget: What makes you think that this is a joke? They could have put the names of any sister they wanted… but they picked us.
Kristen: Bridget’s right. There are over forty other sorority sisters in this house to choose from. Why did this person put our names down?
Chelsea: (nervous) This is creepy.
Kristen: (sarcastically) No sh-t. (beat) Okay, Bridge, you get the soap and the sponges… let’s hurry up and get this off of our wall.
Bridget: Where’s Barb and AJ?
Kristen: Probably getting high with Stella. Let’s not worry about them right now. We have to get this off of our wall before someone sees our names and begins to put two and two together.
Bridget nodded, reaching toward the sink and grabbing onto one of the sponges. She tosses another to Bree and then another to Chelsea. The three girls begin to scrub at the name on the bottom of the list, Ariana Jenkins.
Bree: Where is Daria?
Grace: In her room… sleeping. (beat) I think someone is actually trying to sabotage us. They’re really trying to scare us.
Chelsea: I-I’m going. I can’t handle this.
Kristen: (shrill) None of us leaves! Okay? (beat) Jesus Christ, you would think that we would be able to stick together during a time like this.
Chelsea: Don’t act like you’re so high and mighty. You’re just looking out for yourself! (groans) I’m going to take a hot shower. I’ll be back.
Kristen: Lies. You’re going to f-ck Ricky or Tim… aren’t you?
Chelsea: So what if I am? Sex is the best medicine right now. It’s not my fault you’re stupid boyfriend wants my body more than yours—
Grace: (screaming) Enough! Can you guys stop acting like children? We have bigger problems to worry about than boyfriends cheating. Someone needs to find Barb… now. I just saw her an hour ago, so she can’t be far.
Bridget: Come to think of it… I haven’t see Ariana all day.
Grace: I think she and Stella went out to get more weed. (beat) Stupid potheads.
Bridget: Alright, let’s get to cleaning.
***
Chelsea whimpered softly, raising her hand and wiping her tears. Yes, it was true that she was probably going to have raunchy sex with Tim or with Ricky after she took her shower, but why did Kristen have to try to embarrass her like that?
Chelsea shut the bathroom door, locking it. She raised her shirt over her head and tossed it to the ground. She stared in the mirror at her breasts, which were in her bra. The breast milk was building up, making her breasts a little bigger. She then touched her stomach and gasped softly, wondering how much longer it would be until she got to feel her baby moving in her stomach.
Chelsea: (muttering) F-cking assh-le… knocking me up…
Chelsea reached toward the towel rack, grasping onto one of the towels. She suddenly heard the door knob jiggle and her attention stirred in that direction.
Chelsea: Hello?
There was no answer. Chelsea stood in silence for a moment before chuckling, shaking her head. It was hard to forget that there was the biggest party of the year happening downstairs. Of course people were going to brush past the door.
Chelsea began to move again, slinging the towel over the shower rod and raising her hand to unclip her bra from the front. It was then that she heard the doorknob jiggle again. She turned and stared at it, her face growing red. Goose bumps began to sprout on her arms as she walked forward.
Chelsea: Who the hell is that?
There was no answer. The doorknob continue to shake, however, proving someone was trying to get into the room. Chelsea unlocked the door and turned the knob, pulling it open and staring out.
Chelsea: Hello?
There was no one there, in the hallway.
And her initial thought was that Abby had returned.
***
Grace: Tim, Brian… have you guys seen Stella or AJ?
Tim: Anthony Joseph?
Grace: No, Ariana Jane. No one is answering their room door and I’m getting ready to break in there.
Tim: Don’t break a pretty little bone in your body. Brian and I will go upstairs to see what’s wrong… after we get smashed.
Grace: Something bad could have happened to her.
Tim: Like what?
Grace: (nervous) N-never mind. (to Tim) Do you want me to get Kristen for you?
Tim: Where’s Chelsea?
Grace: Shower.
Tim: I’ll wait for her.
Nodding, Grace waved before pushing through a few dancing college students, and rushing upstairs.
***
Kristen: This is undoubtedly the worst prank in the world.
Bridget: Open your eyes… it’s not a prank.
Bree flipped open her cell phone, ignoring the two arguing girls. She stared at her text messages.
Meet me in the attic, it read on the screen.
Bree looked up to the ceiling. Who wanted to meet her? The number wasn’t a number that she recognized. Bree looked at her other two sorority sisters and then backed out of the room, unnoticed by the bickering college students.
***
Barb raised her head, staring at the dead body of her party loving sorority sister. She sobbed softly, feeling the gag in her mouth. Looking around, she saw Ariana and a very decayed Abby sitting down in chairs in front of her. The stench from the dead body made Barb feel nauseous.
She soon realized where she was. The attic.
She let out a muffled scream, very much aware of the fact that no one could hear her. Absolutely no one.
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 11: The Discovery
Bree: Oh my God, you guys piss me off.
Stuffing her hands into her pockets, Bree walked down the hallway of her sorority house. She could feel the music blasting downstairs, the floor beneath her bare feet vibrating. Bree opened up her cell phone, staring down at the small screen.
Bree: (looks up) Holy sh-t! You scared me.
Kristen: Sorry. (beat) What are you doing?
Bree: I was going to go to the attic. Someone texted me and told me to go up there… plus I’m bored.
Kristen: (grabbing Bree’s arm) Come downstairs. I’ve got to show you this hot guy who is very interested in talking to you.
Bree: (raising an eyebrow) You’re setting me up?
Kristen: (rolls eyes) God, you’re such a virgin.
Bree: (defending herself) Am not!
Kristen: Well, whatever. For all you know, there could be a murderer hiding in our attic and yet, you still want to go up there… in the dark… meeting someone you don’t even know?
Bree thought for a moment. Kristen’s words soon gave her a shiver. Bree nodded, following behind Kristen as Kristen rushed down the stairs.
***
Barb: (whimpers) What do you want from me?
As the figure moved around in the attic, Barb struggled releasing herself from the ropes. Realizing that she couldn’t, she groaned, looking down and beginning to cry.
Why did this person want?
They killed Ariana and Stella. Barb sobbed softly, realizing that there wasn’t much of a chance for survival. Still, Barb knew that she wanted to live. She had to escape… somehow. Barb soon held her breath, realizing that if she pulled at her leg, she would be able to pull her ankle out from the rope.
***
Chelsea: This isn’t cool.
Kristen: What’s not?
Chelsea: Where is AJ?
As the party guests began to leave, Bree took in a deep breath. To her, this didn’t feel like the sort of party she ever wanted to go to again. There wasn’t as much partying going on as there was anger and panicking.
Chelsea turned and glanced at Ricky.
Chelsea: Sh-t.
Kristen: What?
Chelsea: (whispers) There he goes.
Kristen: (shouting) Ricky! Come here!
Ricky, who hadn’t been paying attention at all, looked up and smiled. Kristen smirked, looking at Chelsea, who had a look of anger and nervousness mixed on her face.
Kristen: What’s the matter? I hope it wasn’t something I said.
Bree couldn’t help but chuckle at the cruel move on Kristen’s half. Chelsea sneered as Kristen and Bree walked away and Ricky approached with a regretful look on his face.
Ricky: So—
Chelsea: What do you want, Rick?
Ricky went silent. He glance down to his feet and rubbed his hand on his hair.
Ricky: I just wanted to talk.
Chelsea: Don’t you think that we’ve talked enough? (beat) I’ve been under so much stress at this point—
Ricky: Okay, okay, I get it. The baby and stuff.
Chelsea: (dull) Yeah… the baby.
Chelsea looked up at the door, seeing a few more members of the college leaving the sorority house. She waved to them before looking around at the scattered remaining students. Not many had been left.
Chelsea: So… what are you planning to do with the rest of your life?
Ricky: We’re having this conversation… here?
Chelsea: Why not? I mean, we have to talk about it sometime and I’d rather it be here than in private… where we could potentially f-ck again.
Ricky: You make a good point, but after saying that, I think that I want to talk with you in private.
Chelsea: (rolls eyes) Screw off.
As Chelsea walked away, she took in a deep breath.
Be a strong woman.
Be a Phi Eta Kappa girl.
***
Daria: Partying hard enough, Grace?
Grace: (shakes head) Something really weird is going on downstairs. (beat) Ariana locked her bedroom door and I was wonder if you could open it.
Daria: Isn’t that the invasion of someone’s privacy?
Grace shrugged, taking a seat on Daria’s bed. Daria stood up, resting a hand on Grace’s shoulder.
Daria: What’s wrong, honey? You can tell me anything.
Grace: I think… I think someone knows what we did.
Daria: (disbelief) What?
Grace stood there, her tears suddenly flowing. She looked up at her mother and hugged her mother’s arm. Daria moved closer and hugged her daughter.
Grace: Someone… wrote our names… in red on the kitchen wall.
Daria: That doesn’t mean anything, honey. It’s probably just… some kids play pranks on you guys.
Grace: (eyes watering) Mom… they were our names… the names of the girls who were part of that prank.
Daria stared hard at her daughter. Standing up, she walked toward one of the windows and stared out of it. Grace sobbed quietly, looking down to the ground and rocking slightly back and forth.
Grace: We’re going to die.
Daria: Don’t say that.
Grace: It’s true. What we did… it’s coming back to bite us hard in the ass. (beat) I think that Abby’s back… from the dead.
Daria: Are you planning on being an author or something? (smiles) It would make a good horror novel.
Grace: I’m serious mom.
Daria: And I’m serious when I say this. Go to bed.
Grace crossed her arms, staring at her mother.
Daria: You heard me… now.
Grace: (groans) This is just f-cking great.
Daria: Excuse me?
Grace: Don’t treat me like a child. (beat) I cannot wait to graduate and get out of his goddamned house.
Slamming the door behind her, Grace felt anger build up in her system.
She would make her mother pay for not listening to her.
She would.
***
Bridget: (waving) Have a nice one!
Bree: Who left?
Bridget: The Carson twins. (beat) They are such lunatics.
Bridget walked toward the kitchen, pushing the door open and looking up at the kitchen wall. She sighed, running a hand through her hair and staring at the red streaks. Although they were faint, they were still noticeable.
Bridget: Who would do that?
Bree: I, honestly, think it was Kris.
Bridget: Kristen’s not that much of a bitch—
Bree: Kristen is capable of a lot of things, whether you believe she is or not. (beat) I find it hard to trust something as devious as her.
Bridget: (cooing) You’re such a good little puppy.
Chelsea: (bursting in the kitchen) What the f-ck was that sh-t that you and Kristen pulled?
Bridget: What sh-t?
Chelsea: (pointing at Bree) She and Kristen… they made a f-cking fool out of me today. What the f-ck is your problem? Don’t you get enough joy in being the bitch of the bitch? Why mess with me?
Bree didn’t respond. Instead, she quickly rushed out of the room, causing Chelsea to take in a deep breath and sit down in one of the chairs. The scattered noises of quite a few of the remaining party guests continued to rise.
Chelsea: I think that Bree should stuff it.
Bridget: Don’t be a bitch.
Chelsea: Well, why not? It was a serious issue for me and Kris and Bree just… well, they really made me f-cking angry.
Bridget: Don’t stoop down to their level.
Chelsea: Stooping is the last thing on my mind.
***
As Barb wiggled her hand out of the rope, she quickly looked up, reaching to the other side and pulling at the rope that kept her in the chair.
Grunting softly, Barb looked up, making sure that the killer wasn’t in sight. She pulled away at the rope, causing it to fall to the ground. Untying her ankles, Barb stood up and quickly rushed toward the opening of the attic.
Pulling at the latch, she soon let out a loud cry, realizing that it wouldn’t unlock.
Barb: Somebody help me!
The strong stench of the decaying bodies around her was enough to make her sick. Barb turned around, staring out into the darkness. Her eyes began to water, suddenly seeing a pair of hands reaching forward.
Barb: (screaming) No!
Kicking forward, she connected with the killer, causing the killer to topple backwards as Barb stood up. She sobbed softly to herself, reaching toward the door of the attic again. It was then that an intense pain grew in her ankle.
She could feel the pickaxe, rusted and cold, tugging hard, inside of her. She screamed in pain, crawling at the ground as the killer pulled the end of the pickaxe, causing Barb to drag backwards. The wound began to make a tearing sound. Barb sobbed loudly, continuing to scratch the ground.
One of her fingernails tore open immediately but she barely noticed. The pickaxe, which was through her ankle, continued to drag her back to the place where she wanted to avoid. Barb struggled to wiggle free from the reach of the killer. With no such luck, Barb spun around, twisting her already wounded ankle.
Barb: W-what do you want?
Killer: Abby…
Barb’s face went pale. She recognized the voice immediately. A sickening feeling came over her as the pain suddenly went away for a moment. She stared up at the killer as the killer pulled the pickaxe out of Barb’s ankle.
Barb: W-why… why us?
Killer: You all deserve to die.
Barb: (calmer) Maybe we do.
Before Barb could make another sound, the killer lifted the pickaxe above Barb’s head… and then brought it down with tremendous force.
***
Bridget: (looking up) Did you guys hear that?
Kristen: (sneers) Hear what?
Bridget: N-never mind.
Shrugging her shoulders, Bridget walked forward in the kitchen, peering around the corner, seeing who was still left in the sorority house. Of course, there were quite a few party guests left, but the number had surprisingly decreased.
Grace, who was staring at what Bridget was, grinned.
Grace: I guess we throw sh-tty parties.
Kristen: (rolls eyes) Are you kidding? I’m the motherf-cking life of the party. Everyone wants a taste of Kris.
Bree: (jokingly) Herpes isn’t everyone’s favorite flavor.
Kristen: (chuckles) Oh my God, you finally cracked a good one on me.
Bree: (sarcastically) Yeah, it took me a year to come up with that joke. (grins) Where’s Barbra?
Grace: (checking underneath her fingernails) Probably screwing around with Ariana and Stella. (beat) I can’t believe none of them came to help with the wall. Hell, I texted Ariana, like, seven or eight times.
Chelsea: (bursting into the room) Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—
Grace: (raising an eyebrow) What?
Chelsea stood there, at the door, in a broken heel and makeup streaming down her cheeks. She turned and glanced at the other four sorority sisters.
Kristen: (approaching) What’s wrong?
Chelsea: S-s-she’s here…
Bree: What?
Chelsea: She’s here… in the f-cking house… I can’t stay—
Grace: What the f-ck are you talking about?
Chelsea: Abigail… she’s in the house… in the shower. I turn around for one minute and there she is… in the f-cking shower!
Grace: What is she talking about?
Chelsea: (sobbing) W-we’re all going to die. Abby’s back to kill us all… I know she is.
Grace: Chelsea—
Chelsea lifted her phone into Grace’s face. Grace stared at the picture before letting out a loud gasp, turning around and staring at the rest of her sisters. Covering her mouth, she soon moved to the sick and vomited.
As the other three moved closer toward the phone, they stared at a picture of Abby’s decayed body. At the bottom of the screen, it said “Five to go”.
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 12: The Danger Is Here
Grace: (looks at her sisters) T-this isn’t cool—
Bree: (quickly) We have to call the police!
Kristen: (grabbing Bree’s phone) Are you insane? We killed Abby… they will ask questions.
Chelsea: Kris is right.
Bree: Someone is going to hurt us… (sobs) Where the hell is AJ and the others? Shouldn’t they have been back by now?
Grace: My mom won’t open up their room doors.
Bree: What the hell? (runs a hand through her hair) Okay, okay, okay… all we have to do is hide the body… again.
Chelsea: Don’t you get it? Somebody dug up her body and put it in the shower! (hysterical) I-I’m getting out of here!
Bree: What? Chelsea, no—
But Chelsea didn’t listen. Instead, Chelsea shoved her way past Bree, almost causing Bree to fall onto the ground. Chelsea opened and shut the door to the kitchen.
Kristen shook her head, running a hand through her hair.
Kristen: We can put an end to this.
Bree: How?
Kristen: (looks up) Blame it on Chelsea.
Grace: Shut up, Kristen.
Kristen: N-no… seriously. We can tell them that Chelsea wanted us to keep her secret and now that she’s pregnant… we don’t want too much stress… so we had to take a chance and tell on her—
Bree: Wow. Any respect I had for you before… (chuckles) it’s gone.
As Bree pushed past Kristen, almost causing Kristen to fall over, Kristen turned around and glared at her best friend.
Kristen: F-cking bitch.
Grace: No, Kris. (beat) Chelsea wouldn’t do that to you… this is not to save us. It’s to save you.
Kristen: We’re in this together!
Grace: (ignoring Kristen) I’m going to check upstairs… for Ariana or Stella. (to Bridget) Call Barb.
Bridget: Already trying.
Bridget glanced at Kristen, whose face was red. Kristen turned and looked over at Bridget. Bridget tapped her foot on the hard ground, the phone to her ear as she listened out for her sorority sisters.
Kristen: (sneers) You’ll f-cking see. All of you will.
Kristen stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Bridget to sit down and sigh.
***
Chelsea: (sobbing) I-it was right there.
Chelsea pointed toward the corner of the shower, looking behind her and seeing Bridget and Bree standing in back of her. Bridget took in a deep breath. Bree rolled her eyes, running a hand through her blonde hair.
Bree: (laughs) Screw this. (serious) You’re just… flipping out, like the rest of us.
Chelsea: N-no… I know what I saw!
Bree: Chelsea—
Chelsea: I know what I saw!
Bridget: (innocently) C-come on, Chelsea. Let’s get you to bed. (grabs Chelsea’s arms) Bree, tell Daria that we’re turning in early.
As Bridget and Chelsea walked past her, Bree glanced at the corner that Chelsea was pointing at. Chelsea was certain that she saw the dead body, and shockingly, Bree wasn’t going to argue back.
Approaching the corner, she knelt down, examining the tiled wall and then the tiled floor of the shower.
Bree: Great. (chuckles) You’re going insane.
Standing up, Bree turned around, only to feel something slam into her head. She collapsed backwards, falling into the wall and letting out a scream. She turned around, seeing a dark figure over power her.
Throwing a punch, Bree felt her fist connect with her stomach.
Bree pushed herself up, still hunched over from the pain. Grabbing the shower curtain, she wrapped the killer around it, tossing the mystery person into the bathtub. Bree fell onto her ass again, kicking the person’s legs and standing up.
Bree: (screaming) Somebody help me!
Bree shut the door behind her, turning to her left in the hallway and rushing toward the stairs.
***
Bridget: Are you okay, honey?
Chelsea: (shakes head) A-Abby’s coming to get us… you know she is. I know she is.
Bridget: Okay, sweetie. (beat) You just… close your eyes and try to get some sleep, alright?
Chelsea, although hesitant, nodded, turning to her side and staring blankly forward. Bridget took in a deep breath, standing up and running a hand through her hair. She couldn’t handle the stress. It was getting to her.
Bridget sighed, walking toward the door to the bedroom, only for it to swing open and for Bree to stand there, panting like hell and pointing in the direction of the bathroom. Bridget raised an eyebrow.
Bridget: What?
Bree: S-someone just—
Chelsea: Bree?
Bree, who could barely stand, suddenly fainted, landing on her side with a thud. Bridget let out a curse, grabbing Bree by her under arms and pulling her toward Chelsea’s bed. Chelsea pulled back the covers, helping Bridget lift Bree onto the bed.
Bridget: W-what happened?
Chelsea: Hell if I know.
Bridget: She looked like she saw a…
Bridget stopped herself but Chelsea found herself sneering, putting Bree’s legs on the bed.
Chelsea: (smug) Why can’t you finish your sentence, Bridge?
Bridget: It’s not important.
Chelsea: What were you going to say? “She looked like she saw a ghost”? Maybe she did.
Bridget: (chuckles) I’m going to bed.
Chelsea: Be careful.
Bridget: (nods) Yeah, yeah…
***
Ricky: What’s up, lil’ lady?
Amber: (tosses hair back) I don’t speak to daddies.
Ricky: So you heard.
Amber: (rolls eyes) Everyone on f-cking campus knows the kind of games that you and Chelsea have been playing with each other. (beat) And she’s going to make you be a part of her kids life.
Amber Woods, member of Phi Eta Kappa, shrugged her shoulders, waving to Ricky, who grabbed onto her arm.
Ricky: I’m not looking for commitment.
Amber: (questionable) Oh?
Ricky: If you want… I can prove it to you.
Amber thought for a second, pulling herself away from Ricky. She sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose.
Amber: You better have protection.
Ricky: Trust me… I do.
***
Kristen: (calls out) Grace!
Grace: (rolls eyes) So what? If I don’t answer you, you’re going to blame me for murder?
Kristen: I’m just scared, like the rest of us.
Grace: The rest of us aren’t blaming each other for murder, now are we? (chuckles) We should have listened to Ariana and went to the f-cking police instead of listening to you.
Kristen: (shrugs) You didn’t.
Grace stopped and turned around, sticking up her middle fingers at Kristen. Kristen shrugged, shaking her head and turning back around. She could care less what Grace was thinking. It was just a matter of Grace caring what she was thinking.
Kristen: (turns around) Oh, yeah. I don’t believe in ghosts.
Grace: Neither do I. But I do believe in karma.
Kristen didn’t respond.
***
Amber: (panting) R-Ricky… stop!
Amber pushed the boy off of her before sitting up and staring at the doorway. Ricky, who was still breathing harder than before, looked into the direction that she was looking at. Rolling his eyes, he kissed her neck.
Ricky: Let’s finish what we started—
Amber: (quickly) No. (beat) Someone was watching us… f-cking perverts.
Ricky: Who?
Amber: (quickly) I don’t know… Why don’t you go out there and check for me.
Ricky: God, you’re such a spoiled bitch—
Ricky was suddenly cut off as the closet door slammed open, causing Amber to jump and spin around. She squinted, leaving forward and staring at the darkness.
Amber: Is someone there?
Ricky: F-cking… frat guys—
Ricky, for a second time, was cut off completely as the music downstairs began to blast. He stood up from off of the bed, slamming the door to the bedroom and locking it. He turned around and stared at the closet. He quickly walked forward, reaching his hand out and pushing open the closet door.
Suddenly, there was a scream, coming from behind Ricky. He spun around, staring at Amber for the split second he had before the pickaxe came crashing down upon his head, causing him to collapse onto the ground.
Amber: Ricky!
Ricky: (muttering) What--?
He could barely hear her, between the laughter coming from the hallway and the loud music blaring downstairs. Plus, it probably didn’t help that his vision was growing blurry from the impact of the weapon to his head. He stood up, feeling as if his eyes were swollen. Ricky spun around, collapsing onto the ground in the dizzy state.
Amber, now realizing that this was her chance to escape, shot from the bed and quickly ran toward the bedroom door, all of a sudden, tripping from her feet, which were tangled in the sheets. Her naked body slammed into the door, arms flailing about.
Amber: (shaking her head) Please… I don’t wanna die…
Crying harder than she ever did before, Amber reached up for the doorknob, suddenly feeling the weapon pierce through her hand. She pulled back, screaming as loud as possible.
***
Chelsea: (confused) D-did you hear that?
Bridget: Hear what?
Chelsea: Stay here with Bree. (beat) I’ll be right back.
As Chelsea walked out of the room, Bridget glance down to her friend and sighed, turning back to the door. The loud music was surprisingly not waking up Bree, which was a good thing to Bridget.
Still, Bridget wished that Bree would wake up soon.
Something odd was happening in the sorority house.
***
Ricky: (looks up) W-what?
Ricky, who was tied to a chair in the attic, glanced forward, his eyes looking in every direction. What happened? Ricky gulped, pulling at the rope which bound him to the wooden seat. He felt his headache growing but ignored it.
Suddenly, moving his head to the left, he felt something tapping his shoulder. He turned and stared and let out a cry, seeing the feet of the girl he was once talking to dangling above him. Ricky wiggled around in his chair.
Ricky: (screaming) Help—
He was cut off as he felt the sharp pickaxe slice into his chest. He opened his mouth to make a sound, although none came out. As the pickaxe tore out of his skin, he glanced up at the girl who was hanging above him. Her mouth was propped open in an odd fashion, almost as if the killer wanted her to stare at him with that ghastly expression.
Her legs and arms dangled beneath her, her eyes glassy and cold.
Ricky coughed blood, looking up as the warm blood ran down his chin. He began to cry softly before his head tilted to the side and he left out one last breath. The killer raised a foot and kicked Ricky’s chest, hard, causing his chair to tilt back and hit the ground.
***
Bridget: (quickly) What was that?
Kristen: (annoyed) What was what?
Bridget: (looks up) Someone’s up there… in our attic.
Kristen: I’m not going up there to check.
Bridget didn’t respond. Instead, she pushed herself up from the staircase where Kristen was sitting down at. Kristen glanced behind her, shrugging her shoulders and continuing to check underneath her fingernails.
***
Tim: Dude, are you okay?
Brian: (laughs) Never… better.
Stumbling, and reeking of alcohol, Brian grinned, taking a step forward and collapsing to his side. Tim rolled his eyes, helping out his fellow frat brother out. As the two continued to step down the porch stairs, Tim felt a drop of water splash onto his forehead.
He looked up at the sky before chuckling.
Tim: Just our luck… rain.
Tim smiled before catching a quick glimpse of one of the upstairs windows. He looked back down at Brian before the image of the window registered into his mind. He stared back, quickly, seeing the figure in the window moving away.
Tim: Who is that?
Brian: (groggily) Wha--?
Tim: T-that looked like…
Brian: Like who?
Tim: Abby.
Timothy “Tim” Moyle – LoD
1. Go and see who’s in the window
2. Go get one of the sorority sisters to see who’s in the attic
3. Screw it and just walk home
4. Stay for the remaining minutes of the party
5. Try to find Kristen
6. Try to find Chelsea
3 Deaths, 3 Lives
Brian Garrity – LoD
1. Follow Tim to see what he’s doing
2. Try to make it back to the frat house on your own
3. Go to a bathroom to throw up
4. Find a cute girl to bring back to the frat house
5. See what’s up with the sorority sisters
6. Go back to the party to get some more to drink
3 Deaths, 3 Lives
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BB20-Host
15 years ago
Scene 13: Death Has Returned
Bree: W-what happened?
Bridget: You okay?
Bree put a hand on her head and sighed. She coughed for a second, sitting up and feeling a headache beginning to occur.
Bree: I-I don’t remember—
Bridget: Well, the party’s ending soon. I’m going to go clean up the mess and I’ll meet you—
Bree: (quickly) Don’t leave me!
Bridget stared at her sorority sister. She sighed, running a hand through her hair. Of course, sisters for life. She couldn’t leave her sister, even if she wanted to. But what was taking Chelsea so damn long?
Bree: I think… I was attacked.
Bridget: Sh-t.
Bree: Bridget… I think someone knows.
Bridget: (breathing harder) This isn’t happening. This is what I get for letting Kristen talk us into hiding this.
Bree: Where is AJ or Barb? You guys must have found them by now.
Bridget didn’t respond. Instead, she stood up and brushed off her clothes in one quick motion. Feeling sick, she glanced out her door.
Bridget: (quietly) We’ve got to get out of here.
Bree: Why?
Bridget: I just have this… weird feeling. This feeling that this whole thing isn’t over yet. That it’s just beginning.
***
Kristen: Screw… you…
Grace: (crosses arms) Where is everyone?
Kristen: (rolls eyes) Around.
Kristen pulled down a pair of panties that had been hanging off of a nail on the wall. Grace looked around. The sorority house was empty now. A few of the sisters had gone to the mall, probably to trash it as they did the house.
Grace rolled her eyes. She looked down at her outfit and cursed.
Grace: When did I get that?
Kristen: Who knows. (bites lip) Did you see Barb around… anywhere?
Grace: Nope. Why?
Kristen: I haven’t seen her or Stella… or AJ since earlier today.
Grace: Did you check their rooms?
Kristen: Can I be brutally honest? As in if you tell anyone I said this, it will end up brutally hurting you in the end?
Grace: Go ahead.
Kristen: I’m too scared to check their rooms.
Grace held her breath. It was the first time that Kristen had really shown a sign of emotion since the accident that took Abby’s life. She chuckled for a second before straightening out her expression and resting a hand on Kristen’s shoulder.
Kristen jerked back, causing Grace to remove her hand and sigh.
Grace: It’s okay to be scared.
Kristen: I didn’t ask for a pep-talk.
Grace: I’m just saying… if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here. And so is my mother.
Kristen: Oh grow up, Grace—
Kristen was cut off immediately, staring forward at something she hadn’t noticed before. Walking forward, reached out and grasped onto Ariana’s jacket. She turned around and looked at Grace, who shrugged.
Grace: What?
Kristen then opened up the jacket, and as soon as Grace saw what was on the jacket, she screamed. Kristen dropped the article of clothing before backing up into the table, knocking a few things down.
Kristen: Oh… f-ck.
Grace: Is that… blood?
Chelsea: (running downstairs) What? What is it?
Kristen, unable to speak, pointed to the jacket. Chelsea gasped before looking up to the ceiling.
Chelsea: Oh, sh-t… AJ…
Quickly rushing back up the stairs, Chelsea, with Kristen and Grace behind her, tripped in the hallway. Pushing herself back up, she turned and glanced at Ariana’s door.
Chelsea: AJ? Are you in there? AJ?!
Chelsea turned the doorknob, biting her bottom lip. The door didn’t budge. Chelsea let out a small curse.
Chelsea: We have to go get—
Kristen: (groans) Ugh, move over!
Pushing Chelsea out of the way, Kristen raised her foot and kicked the door. At first it didn’t budge and Chelsea opened her mouth to say something. Then, Kristen kicked it again, causing it to slam open… and causing Grace to fall to the ground and scamper backwards into a wall.
Kristen’s mouth dropped open. Chelsea dropped to her knees and let out a scream. There they were… Barb, AJ and Stella, sitting there on the bed, side by side, their expressions all different. The only things similar about them at this point had been that they were all covered in blood and that they were all… dead.
Chelsea: Oh my God!
Grace let out a scream before scampering to her feet and accidently slamming into Bridget, who fell to the ground.
Bridget: What’s wrong?
Grace: (crying) Oh my God… oh my God!
Pushing Bridget away, Grace quickly ran down the stairs. Bridget stood up, brushing off her now dirt covered clothes. Kristen ran after Grace, almost bumping into Bridget herself. As Bridget made her way toward the bedroom, she stared at Chelsea, who was on the ground, shivering and sobbing.
Bridget: What’s the matter—
Bridget’s mouth dropped open as she turned and glanced at the bed of Ariana’s room. She shook her head, as if denying what her very eyes were seeing. Letting the tears stream down her cheeks, she grabbed Chelsea by the shoulders and shook her.
Bridget: W-when did you guys find this?
Chelsea shook her head, weakly turning and staring back at the sight. She couldn’t look away. As much as she wanted to, something wouldn’t let her look away. Bridget let go of Chelsea and quickly rushed toward the bedroom Bree was in.
As the door opened, Bree looked up from the bed.
Bree: What’s going on? I heard people screaming—
Bridget: We have to get out of here—
Grace: (o.s., downstairs) No!
Bridget, who was now sobbing, grabbed a hold of Bree arm and yanked her sorority sister out of the bed. It was then that their bedroom door slammed shut. Bridget ran, banging her fists on the door.
Bridget: No, no, no!
Bree: What the f-ck is going on?
Bridget: (sobbing) They’re dead! They’re f-cking dead!
Bree: (gasps) What?
Bridget: We’ve got to get out of here… we’ve got to get out of here…
Bree: Wait… what?
Bree got up out of the bed, looking out of the bedroom window, only to see outside Tim Moyle, stammering and pointing to a shadowed figure in a graduation gown. Bree began to slam her fists on the window.
Bree: Tim! Tim, move!
Tim, almost as if he could hear her, stumbled backwards, falling and slamming his head onto the trunk of a tree. Bree covered her mouth as the figure turned and looked up at her. In the figures hands was the pickaxe. Bree screamed, falling backwards.
Bree: What the f-ck is going on?! What the f-ck is going on—
Bridget: Stella and Barb… and Ariana… they’re dead… oh my f-cking god, they’re all dead…
Bree shook her head, not believing what Bridget was telling her. But something in her told her that what Bridget was saying was true.
Bree: We’re all going to die, aren’t we?
***
Kristen: Oh my God… oh my God…
Grace was sobbing on the ground, uncontrollably. Kristen stood, her back pressed against the front door and her eyes shut. Brian’s body was hanging from the front door. The killer must have just done this. Brian was dead. Ariana was dead. Stella and Barb… dead…
This was a nightmare.
Grace: I-I’m calling the cops.
Kristen: (quickly) Are you insane?
Grace: What don’t you get? They’re dead, Kris! Everyone’s f-cking dead! What the f-ck are we supposed to do?
Kristen: The killer knows what we did… the killer knows.
Grace: Are you still trying to save your ass, Kristen? We’re either going to jail or dying. There are no slipping through the cracks, you stupid bitch.
Grace pulled out her cell phone and began to dial “911”. It was then that Kristen grabbed a lamp from off of the nightstand and slammed it into the back of Grace’s head. She fell to the ground, and remained motionless after a few minutes.
***
Chelsea: Oh my God… somebody help me… please!
Chelsea sobbed softly, running into one of the walls, rushing down the staircase. She coughed softly, looking around and behind her. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, catching her breath and staring at Grace.
Chelsea: No.
Chelsea covered her mouth, convinced that another one of her friends was dead. But she wasn’t going to examine the body. Hell, she was sure that Grace had been murdered. And if Grace was dead, more than likely, the others were as well.
Chelsea ran toward the front door, hoping over Grace’s body. As she grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open, she screamed, dropping to her knees and staring at Brian’s body, hanging from an electric cord. Chelsea stood up, tripping over Grace and crawling to the kitchen, leaving a trail of vomit behind her.
As she stood up, she shut the kitchen door and locked it. She looked into the drawers for sharp objects she could use for her advantage.
Chelsea: Please, please, please—
Chelsea was soon cut off by the sound of glass breaking. She looked at the kitchen door, holding her breath with tears continuing to stream down her face. She slowly walked forward, her hands shaking in fear.
Chelsea: H-hello?
Chelsea bit her bottom lip, suddenly jumping back as she heard another object of glass breaking in the living room. Chelsea backed up, only to stop and hear something that caused her to cover her mouth. She turned slowly, hearing the creaking sound of the back door opening. Chelsea sobbed softly before rushing toward the basement door and opening it quickly.
She slipped into the darkness of the basement, shutting the door behind her.
Chelsea looked around her, her heart pounding in fear that someone was going to see her. She looked around the dark basement, suddenly stopping as she heard the steps in the kitchen. Someone was up there.
Rushing down the stairs, quietly but quickly, Chelsea closed her eyes, sobbing softly before hearing the basement door opening and closing.
F-ck, she thought to herself, closing her eyes and letting the tears drip down her face.
Chelsea suddenly didn’t hear anything anymore. No more breathing, coming from the mysterious stranger. No more footsteps. Nothing. Chelsea peered from around the corner, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness in a failed attempt to see. Cursing softly, Chelsea stumbled from her hiding spot, brushing across a broom, which fell onto the ground.
Chelsea gasped loudly, accidentally of course, and soon felt the cold hands of her attacker around her neck. Chelsea kicked her leg forward, connecting with the killer’s stomach. The killer grunted before letting go of Chelsea and rushing towards the stairs. She slammed into the side railing, feeling the rusted metal tearing into her skin.
She ignored the pain, rushing up the stairs and turning the doorknob. It wouldn’t open. The door wouldn’t f-cking open.
Chelsea looked down the stairs, using the light from the bottom of the door to help her. No one was there. Chelsea turned back around, slamming her fists on the door quickly and turning the doorknob. She could hear someone slamming their fists on the kitchen door, which unfortunately she locked.
Chelsea soon felt the sharp end of the pickaxe slam into the back of her knee, bursting through the other side, tearing her kneecap out of place. She screamed shrilly in pain, kicking her other leg forward but ending up falling on her ass. As she tumbled down the stairs, she couldn’t help but wonder if the killer had been Abby.
Chelsea slammed at the bottom step, moaning softly as she hit the ground. She forced herself up, feeling horrible pains in her leg.
Chelsea: (softly) P-please… don’t…
Kristen: (o.s., screaming) Chelsea! Chelsea, where are you?
Chelsea opened her mouth to scream, but then she felt the pickaxe again, slashing through her stomach, not only destroying her life, but her embryo’s life as well. A trickle of blood began to run down her lips. Chelsea sat her, staring at her killer. She shook her head, reaching forward.
Chelsea: P-please… please, please, please, please—
Chelsea let out one last scream as the killer brought the pickaxe in the air and then slammed it down into her mouth, tearing open her jaw, disconnecting it from her face. Chelsea slumped down onto the ground, choking on her own tongue. Less than a moment later, she died.
***
Bree: T-that was Chelsea… didn’t you hear that? It was f-cking Chelsea—
Bridget: I know, I know.
Bree softly cried, slamming her hands onto the window and sinking to her knees. She stared at Tim’s body.
Bree: I think he’s dead.
Bridget: (sobbing) We should have gone to the cops. This wouldn’t have happened if we didn’t f-cking try to hide it—
Bree: This is all Kristen’s fault.
Bridget: W-wait…
Hearing footsteps in the hallway, Bree and Bridget both stared at the door, both keeping their mouths shut. Bridget hugged Bree tightly.
Bree: This isn’t happening… this isn’t happening…
Bridget: Shut up.
It was then that the door opened up. Bridget let out a cry as the hooded figure moved slowly forward. Bridget wiped her tears, shaking her head.
Bridget: Leave us alone! We didn’t do anything to you!
Bree: No.
Bridget stopped sobbing for a moment, a confused expression on Bree’s face. Did she just say no?
Bridget turned around, only to feel Ariana’s iron slam into the back of her head. She slumped to the ground, her blurry vision staring at the killers robe. Suddenly, everything went black.
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BB20-Host
14 years ago
Scene 14: A Killer Revealed
As Bridget opened her eyes, the first thought that ran through her mind was the fact that half of her sisters that shared a horrible secret with her had been murdered. The second was that it felt like a truck had hit her.
Bridget lifted her head from her side, looking around. Her eyes began to water, salty tears flowing down her red cheeks. She shook her head before wanting to lift her arm and realizing that she couldn’t.
She looked down, seeing it tied to the chair.
Bridget: (screaming) Somebody! Somebody help me!
Voice: It’s no use.
As Bridget continued to sob, she looked up, shaking her head quickly.
Bridget: W-what are you doing?
Voice: Kristen is going to be dead soon and Grace… well, Grace is in her own world right now.
Bridget looked around, staring at the other dead bodies, all sitting up in chairs around her. There were still two more chairs, both empty, apparently meant for Kristen and Grace. Bridget saw Ricky and Amber, Barb, Stella, Ariana and Brian… even Chelsea, who Bridget couldn’t believe was dead, was in one of the chairs. One of the chairs, however, had been turned around.
Bridget looked up at the killer.
Bridget: B-but… Bree, why?
Bree shrugged, almost as if it didn’t faze her that she murdered her sorority sisters. Bree walked toward one of the candles, lighting it.
Bree: And I’m supposed to be the weak one, right?
Bridget: What are you talking about?
Bree: (sneers) Don’t play stupid, Bridget. You know exactly what the f-ck I’m talking about.
Bridget tugged at her arms, her face growing red. Tears continued to stream down her face like a waterfall. She couldn’t stop crying. This was just too much for her.
Bree: So, how do you want to die? By pickaxe, by rope, by knife…
Bridget: Bree, what are you doing?
Bree: Shut up!
Bree raised a hand and backslapped Bridget. Bridget stopped crying for a moment, her eyes continuing to water and her mouth dropping open.
Bree: That’s better.
Smiling, Bree trotted over to Chelsea’s dead body and pulled her hair. Bridget held her breath, not making any noise to trigger the anger in Bree.
Bree: Isn’t she beautiful?
Bree laughed aloud, tossing her head back before letting go of Chelsea’s hair. Bridget felt tears run down her cheeks but didn’t utter a sound. She had to get out of here. Bree was f-cking insane. Bree was the killer, Bridget thought to herself. Bree killed them all… It was an odd revelation, considering the fact that it had been Bree who was the ditzy blonde of the group. But at the same time, Bree wasn’t all there at times.
She would space out every once in a while. She would stay in her room and cry every once in a while… ever since the accident. And now, she’s killing us, Bridget thought, regretfully. Bridget suddenly relaxed herself from pulling.
She felt as if she had no choice but to give up.
***
Kristen: G-Grace… oh my God.
Kristen pulled at Grace’s arm, sobbing softly as she made the girl sit up. Grace, whose head swung loosely too her left, muttered something in her sleep.
Kristen: (sighs in relief) Oh sh-t… I thought I was the only one left.
Kristen chuckled softly, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Kristen looked up at the window, letting out a soft cry, seeing the cloaked figure standing there with the pickaxe in their hand. Kristen pulled at Grace’s arm.
Kristen: Wake up, dammit!
Grace: (opens her eyes) W-what?
Kristen looked up to see the killer not standing there anymore. A feeling of fear came over the girl. Kristen stood up.
Kristen: I’ll be back.
Grace: W-w-what happened—
Kristen: Just stay here!
Kristen quickly rushed towards the staircase and stomped on the stairs, tripping and scraping her leg. Grace glanced around the living room. She quickly got to her feet and found herself spinning around as the front door slammed open.
Kristen screamed, taking off her shoe and raising it into the air to throw it at the person who was at their doorway. She realized who it was and took in a deep breath, running downstairs and hugging her boyfriend.
Kristen: Tim… they’re all dead…
Tim: Kristen… what the f-ck is going on? (runs a hand through his hair) Brian’s dead and I just saw Bridget and Bree in the f-cking window… Bree has a f-cking knife.
Kristen: W-wait, what?
Tim: Bree… she has a knife. What did she do?
Kristen: Bree… (turns to Grace) Bree killed them. W-why would she—
Tim: Explain to me—what the f-ck is going on, so that I can explain to the police how Bree has gone psycho crazy—
At the same time, Kristen and Grace both screamed “no” before Grace stood up and grabbed onto Tim’s arms, pulling him inside, leaving Brian’s dangling body outside. Tim fell to his knees, just as Kristen and Grace had.
Grace: Okay, I know this is going to sound weird, but you can’t go to the police… not just yet.
Kristen: Not until Bree is dead.
Tim: Wait… what?
Kristen: Look… one year ago, we did something… horrible.
Tim: What?
Grace: Okay, we played a harmless prank on Abigal and the stupid bitch… well… s-she—
Kristen: She wacked herself.
Tim: Tell me you’re joking.
Kristen: (laughs) Trust me, that’s not the weirdest reaction we’ve gotten.
Tim’s eyes grew wide. He knew what this had to mean. Kristen, Grace, Bridget, Bree… they were part of Abby’s disappearance.
Tim: So wait… she killed herself?
Kristen: Yeah.
Tim: And you didn’t go to the police… why?
Kristen: It was our faults! We caused her death!
Tim: I see. (stands) Well, I’m off to the police.
Grace: Wait—
Kristen: What? Did you not just hear anything I told you? We could go to jail for Abby’s death!
Tim: I know. Unfortunately for you pretty ladies, it’s just not my f-cking problem and frankly, Kristen… you can go to hell.
Smiling, Tim waved before opening the front door. Grace let out a scream, rushing backwards, grabbing Kristen’s arm. Tim stared at the hooded figure in the graduation gown. Before he could move or let out a sound of any importance, the pickaxe slammed into his side. He flew toward the door, his head breaking the glass.
He grabbed onto Brian’s body, which helped Tim keep balance, but it was no use. The killer ripped the pickaxe from Tim’s body, causing Tim to fall to his hands and knees.
Tim: N-no—
The killer raised the pickaxe and brought it down, letting it go straight through the back of Tim’s head. He bit down hard at the other side, which was now out of his mouth. As soon as he stopped moving, the killer put a foot at the top of his head and pulled the pickaxe from his body.
***
Bree: (smiling) Looks like my friend is having a little fun.
Bridget: (weakly) Friend?
Bree: Bridge, is something wrong? (chuckles) You look like you’re about to be sick, huh?
Bridget could hear the screaming girls downstairs. She wondered if they would make it. She wanted them to make it. They had to save her.
Bridget: I-I don’t know what you want—
Bree: Of course you do. You know I want to prove something.
Bridget: (shivers) Bree… you’re not weak—
Bree: Shut it.
Smiling and skipping toward the door, Bree pressed her ear against it, hearing the sounds of the doors slamming downstairs.
Bree: Kristen and Grace… I should have known that they would be a bit of a problem. Kristen with her big ass and all… (runs a hand through her hair) I guess I’ll be back. (smile) Don’t start without me.
Bridget sneered at Bree as Bree stood up and grabbed her butcher’s knife from the dresser drawer. As she watched Bree leave the room, Bridget tugged at her arms, which were tied to the chair.
Bridget: (screaming) Somebody help me!
It was then that the bedroom door creaked open. Bridget looked forward, staring at the figure move into the bedroom swiftly, quietly and quickly.
Daria: Bridget, are you alright?
Bridget: Oh my God, Miss Edison… s-she killed them… she killed them all! We’ve got to get out of here… Bree is f-cking insane—
Bridget stopped speaking, feeling the hand of her sorority mother slap across her face. There was an eerie silence in the room. Bridget looked back at Daria, who seemed to avoid the gaze of the other corpses in the room.
Bridget: Miss Edison—
Daria: If there is one thing I will not tolerate from you… filthy sluts, it’s the foul language you bestow in my home.
Bridget sobbed softly, shaking her head, confused as to what was going on.
Bridget: (crying) Miss Edison… listen to me—
Daria: (grabbing Bridget’s hair and pulling back) Bree, why doesn’t this one have a gag in her mouth?
Bridget glanced forward, at her sorority mother’s clothes. She was so excited, so happy to see her house mother, she didn’t seem to notice the black graduation gown she was wearing, or the pickaxe, which was now brought from behind Daria’s back.
Bridget: Miss… Edison—
Daria: There, there, child.
Bree: (entering the room) What, Daria?
Daria: (stern) What have I told you? If I haven’t told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times. When you tie them up, they need to have… (looks around) a gag… or something similar to it…
Daria bent down and picked up a balled up sock. She stuffed it into Bridget’s mouth. Bridget stared hard at her sorority mother. What the f-ck was going on?
Daria: Much better.
Bree: I think it’s fitting on her.
Letting go of Bridget’s hair, Daria turned to Bree and nodded. Bree rolled her eyes, taking out her cell phone and dialing the three numbers.
Bree: (fake sobbing) Hello? Oh my God… they’re all dead… Y-yeah… (beat) Kristen Helms. S-she’s f-cking crazy! S-s-she caused A-Abigial’s—(beat) O-okay… okay.
Hanging up the phone, Bree’s fake panicked face became flat. She yawned, stretching out her arms.
Bree: Wow… killing people can be murder. (to Daria) Convincing enough?
Daria: We’ve still got work to do. (beat) Gracie and Kristen are still downstairs. I got the boy, but I think he told people.
Bree: F-ck.
Daria: (shrugs) So, are you ready?
Bree raised the knife.
Bree: Let’s do this.
***
Kristen: I don’t want to be here anymore… I don’t want to be here anymore—
Grace: (whimpering) S-shh… I can’t hear if they’re out there or not.
Kristen: W-we have to hide or something. (beat) The basement. We can hide in the basement. M-maybe Tim did call the cops—
Grace: (pressing her ear against the kitchen door) I don’t hear anything—
Grace suddenly let out a yelp, stepping backwards and hearing the killer walking down the stairs. Kristen cried hard and loud, causing Grace to rush toward the sorority sister and cover her mouth.
Grace: (grits teeth) D-don’t say… a word…
Daria: (o.s) G-Grace? Are you out there?
Grace: Mom? O-oh my God, mom!
Daria: (o.s) Grace, let me in.
Kristen, however, backed into the backdoor. She wiped her tears, unable to move. She wanted to leave. But at the same time, she knew that if she left, her secret would be revealed and she couldn’t let that happen.
Kristen: Grace (rushes forward) Stop!
Kristen pulled at Grace, grabbing both of Grace’s arms and falling to her back. Grace, confused, pulled away from Kristen, and tried reaching for the door again.
Kristen: S-she could tell on us—
Grace: She knows, Kristen. She’s known for a year now—
Kristen: She knows?
Daria: (o.s) I know, Kristen. Now, let me in.
Kristen shook her head. Grace rolled her eyes, pushing Kristen off of her and reaching for the door. Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound as Kristen slammed a coffee mug into the back of Grace’s head. Grace toppled onto the ground, her eyes closed.
Daria: (o.s) Kristen? Grace? Grace!
Kristen chuckled softly, collapsing to her knees and patting her hand on the top of Grace’s head.
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